


Take it to the Limit

by FreyaLionheart



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Foot Jobs, Making Out, Teasing, dubcon maybe idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:46:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27590888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreyaLionheart/pseuds/FreyaLionheart
Summary: Estinien hates meetings, but the woman across from him makes him hate them even more.
Relationships: Warrior of Light/Estinien Wyrmblood
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31





	Take it to the Limit

**Author's Note:**

> I had a thought and so it was written.

Estinien slouches against the upholstered back of his chair, resting his elbow atop the table, just shy of his armor catching on the edge of the detailed map splayed out on the massive table before him. The map displays Ishgard and the surrounding territories in intricate detail, aged corners curling in until they are stopped against the books and inkwells Lord Commander Aymeric de Borel has placed to keep the map flat and in place while he speaks. Strategy, strategy, strategy. It’s high-level stuff; the kinds of things Estinien rarely needs to think about when he ventures out into the field in defense of his homeland. He is no commander, no officer, no leader of any men at all. He prefers it that way. His mistakes are his own, and he never has anyone to blame but himself.

He turns his gaze to the others seated at the table, passing over each Ishgardian with complete disinterest until his eyes settle on the one outsider at their meeting; the Warrior of Light. Estinien had never expected the woman to become so involved in Ishgard’s affairs, but then, she had likely never expected to be taking refuge in Ishgard, from the very people she had given her all to protect so many times before. She is seated just around the corner of the table from him, looking much like a child sitting at the adults’ table, so small is she compared to the assembled Elezen, and Estinien ducks his head, concealing the smirk this thought brings to his lips behind his visor. He can see her shift out of the corner of his eye, and glances up, his eyes narrowing as he catches Reika smoothing out her features after… smiling? A devious smile, or an affectionate one, Estinien finds himself wondering, watching the Warrior of Light for a moment longer, to make sure she isn’t planning something horrid, before finally turning his attention back to Aymeric, standing at the end of the table opposite where Reika sits.

“--and that should be sufficient for the time,” Aymeric finishes. “There are more pressing details regarding the safety of our people and needs discussion. If there are no objections for procurement of supplies, we may move forward.”

Reika folds her hands and sneaks a look at the Elezen man across from her. Even as a min height Viera, he still towers over her. His armor sends her mind spinning with devious thoughts and she crosses her legs. Tilting her head, she smiles at him; a brief smile of innocence before her mask is back in place to answer a question.

“Well,” she starts, “Although I don’t have the insights of Ishgard’s defenses, I am ready to raise my lance to defend. As an _Azure_ Dragoon, it is my duty to protect.”

Estinien makes a noise of annoyance and when he looks at her, she’s smiling again. This time her smile is different. She’s testing him. He’s thinking of a retort when a foot brushes against his inner thigh and he locks eyes with her through his helm. She wouldn’t dare.

“A splendid answer,” Aymeric declares, turning to Estinien. “Estinien, as the original Azure Dragoon, what say you?”

Estinien turns his head briefly, keeping his focus off the foot on him. He opens his mouth to speak and barely registers her devious smile. “Humph. I care not one way or the other. She--” turning to her, “better not--”

The arch of her foot caresses him and he nearly bares fangs at her boldness. _This fucking woman._ He glares at her from under his helm as she folds her hands and leans in as if she’s listening. She tilts her head at him in an indication to finish what he’s saying.

“As I was saying,” he tries to finish, feeling her caress him through his trousers and folds his hands, watching her carefully. “She better not get in my way. I don’t need her help.”

“Of course you don’t, _Ser_ Estinien,” she hums. Her lips turn upward and she moves her foot along his length. Her green eyes glow with mischief and before he can speak, she pulls her foot away when papers shuffle along the table.

“Ser Aymeric,” her voice is curious and an eyebrow raises at the document. “Is this the route you believe them to take?”

Estinien picks up the paper the Elezen next to him hands him and turns his gaze down to it, but his mind is elsewhere as he pretends to skim over the document. A momentary reprieve from Reika’s teasing allows him time to compose himself, but he is sure it will be just that; momentary. He raises his eyes to study the Viera seated adjacent from him, steeling himself for another wicked onslaught from the damnable woman.

The Azure Dragoon - him, the _original_ Azure Dragoon - turns his attention up the table to Aymeric as the Lord Commander answers, only to jolt halfway out of his seat as Reika’s teasing foot returns, the toe of her shoe rubbing teasing circles against the tip of his burgeoning erection.

All eyes at the table turn to him, none looking more perplexed than Reika’s, but he can see the gleam behind her glasses, and has to tamp viciously down on Nidhogg’s urge to snarl at her. Estinien sweeps his cold blue gaze across the room, daring anyone to question his abrupt movement, and feels the dragon inside preen as all the Elezen turn back to the papers in their hands. All but Aymeric, whose lips have begun to twitch into a facsimile of a knowing smile.

He is sure Reika is still watching him too, but Estinien shifts his hips further back in his chair, sitting up straight in an attempt to make it more difficult for her to reach him, to continue her idiotic antics. He does not so much as look at her, knowing how fiercely Nidhogg will react to the smug little smirk he is certain graces her lips.

Reika stares at him and notices the tight line of his lips. She suppresses a laugh and looks towards Aymeric who catches her glance with a glint in his eyes. Ah, so he knows, does he? She shifts slightly and crosses her legs, feeling the wetness between her thighs. She fumbles with the document slightly and straightens herself. A captain looks in her direction to which she merely smiles. Flustered, he turns away from the Warrior of Light and she resumes listening to Aymeric.

“Regarding your inquiry with air forces, we do have airships ready to be deployed with weapons made by Stephanivien de Haillenarte and the Machinists Guild,” Aymeric motions to the Elezen sitting on the left corner of the table, “And the Astrologians are on standby with Jannequinard de Durendaire,” he motions to the other man seated beside him.

“Good that we have such fine guild masters at the helm for support,” Reika comments, turning to face Aymeric. She stands and leans over the giant map, purposely exposing the skin at the top of her bosom to Estinien and points at a spot on the canvas. “I believe we should have people stationed here as well, in Falcon’s Nest. Having the surrounding areas of Ishgard protected would help fortify your defenses.”

She shifts slightly and her necklace rests between the valley of her breasts as she hums and trails her finger to another spot on the map. A slow and deliberate movement as she peeks at the brooding Dragoon. “And here. Camp Dragonhead.”

Estinien cuts off the deep growl that threatens to escape the cage of his chest as Reika shows off her chest to him, to the whole damned table, and looks pointedly anywhere else. His hands clenched into fists in his lap, the tips of his pointed gauntlets digging into the leather there almost hard enough to puncture it. He can feel his blood boiling just beneath his skin as Nidhogg roars, more of an aetherial sensation than a sound, but one that is very clear in meaning.

 _Take. Claim. Breed. Protect._ He could almost scoff at that, if he weren’t in a damn meeting, in public, with Reika’s breasts dangling for all of Ishgard’s elite to see, and his instincts clawing up his insides like a rabid animal. Him? Protect Reika? It’s almost laughable. The Warrior of Light does not need protection from anyone or anything. 

_What she may need, however, is an attitude adjustment,_ Estinien reflects, wincing as he feels one of his gauntlet’s tapered fingertips pierce the leather of his glove, and dig into his palm. By the Fury, if she’s going to keep behaving like this around him now, he’ll have to do _something_ about it. No need to drag Aymeric’s reputation even further through the mud on _his_ behalf.

Estinien takes a moment to compose himself before finally allowing himself to focus on the meeting once more, studiously keeping his expression blank as he nods along to the various suggestions offered regarding how to deal with the Horde’s advance. The dragoon crosses his legs beneath the table, determined not to give Reika any more opportunities to torment him, lest he lose his temper for good, and in front of so many of Ishgard’s influentials, no less. It is hardly as though any of them think highly of him to begin with, but it would not do for him to explode in such a very… draconic manner, for apparently no reason. He glances up the table towards Aymeric, arching an eyebrow, and hoping his longtime friend understands his request for a reprieve, either an end to the meeting or a brief break, perhaps. If he does not either manage to distance himself from Reika, or steal several moments alone with her, he fears his composure will not hold out much longer.

Reika watches him carefully and her ears twitch ever so slightly at the sound of fabric tearing. Steeling herself, she gives him a knowing smile before sitting back in her seat with a regal posture. She crosses her legs and folds her hands in front of her, “Thank you for the floor, Lord Commander. Those are my suggestions for defense.”

Aymeric nods in her direction before standing tall at the head of the table. He glances to the woman beside him who nods without him needing to speak. His eyes travel to each of the house lords and he nods, motioning to them if they require the floor. When none speak, Aymeric bows his head and gestures to the door.

“I think perhaps a short reprieve is in order. Digesting the information is a necessity. We shan’t tax ourselves by piling information on without retaining what we’ve heard thus far.”

Reika glances at the door, but in her peripheral vision, catches the Lord of House Fortemps, Edmont de Fortemps. His dark eyes look across the map and he nods in agreement. The features of his face burn with a fatherly pride and he turns towards Aymeric.

“That is a fine idea, Lord Commander. I would certainly be grateful for the allotted time to look over the documents again. Reika has provided us with valuable information indeed.”

She nearly beams at the compliment and settles for an innocent smile. Lord Edmont made his home a refuge for the fleeing Scions and she’s ever grateful for it. She also knows that he’s grown quite protective of her after the incident at The Vault. Her legs straighten out and she fixes her hair so that it all rests over her left shoulder.

“It is currently a quarter bell. We shall reconvene at the half. Please take this time to digest the information and return ready to discuss our next steps. I shan’t keep you much longer.”

The house lords file out of the room and Reika stretches before standing. “I’ll return momentarily. I need to use the bathroom.” She feels his eyes burning her as she speaks with Aymeric and soon she leaves the two men alone.

Estinien is out of his seat as soon as Reika is out the door, and he makes for the door after her, intending to catch her before she can escape his sights, but finds himself stopped by Aymeric’s hand on his armor. He snarls at his longtime friend, fighting down the impulse to tackle him to the floor and grapple over his mate- by the _Fury,_ where had that come from? He froze, letting his arms fall to his sides as he blinked up at Aymeric, feeling as though he had woken from an extended slumber.

“At least let her freshen up first,” Aymeric chides him with a smirk, patting Estinien on the shoulder before stepping aside, and holding an arm out, allowing his friend to pass. “And do try not to scandalize anyone too terribly.”

Estinien sneers at him as he storms past Aymeric, but he snorts beneath his breath at his friend’s accurate read on the situation. Damned man always knew more than he had any right to… and did he have to be so very smug about it? But what Aymeric knows or doesn’t know is hardly the dragoon’s first concern at the moment, and he finds himself hurling the meeting room doors open before he can think to exercise a little more restraint. The Elezen winces at the sound of the doorknobs colliding with the wall, and gingerly reaches for each door, gently closing each one, after checking the walls for cracks or any other structural damage. 

This done, Estinien turns on his heel and stalks off down the hall to wait just around the corner from the washroom, leaning up against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. He takes several deep breaths, attempting to quell some of the burning rage and lust pooling together in the pit of his stomach, and only then opens his eyes, checking each person who passes by him, planning to seize Reika and drag her off somewhere solitary if he must, so he can have words with her.

A soft humming fills his ears and the corners of his mouth turn up into a smirk. He can hear her coming down the hallway and his hands twitch with the need to corner her. He plans to make her pay dearly for her behavior at the meeting. Glancing at the clock, he notices that they don’t have much time; however, it’s more than enough to make her suffer. The humming grows louder and it’s only then that he realizes how close she is. He clenches his fist and breathes before he rounds the corner. Staring down at her, he places his hand against the wall to stop her progress.

Green eyes widen at the movement, but the woman doesn’t make a sound. Instead, she looks him over and smiles innocently as if she hadn’t tortured him the entire meeting. She watches him carefully. His predatory gaze roams along her body and his nostrils flare at her audacity. How dare she mock him in front of everyone! Nidhogg roared within, wanting him to take and claim what was his. His mate mocked him and he will not stand for it. Estinien huffs a breath to calm himself down, but he can feel her smile. He hears a breathy chuckle and he glares at her from under his helm.

“Is something bothering you, Ser?” She mocks, leaning her head back slightly to see his parted lips. Her ears twitch at the sound of his heartbeat and she hums that same annoying sound he heard before. This damned woman. She knows exactly what she’s doing. He was going to teach her a lesson.

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing in there, Reika?” Estinien snarls, shifting from foot to foot as he struggles to tamp down on the building rage Nidhogg is stirring up inside him. They both know she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Reika says, blinking wide eyes up at him, the very picture of innocence. She twirls a lock of hair around her finger, trailing the other hand down the front of her corset to adjust her necklace, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side, and Estinien _snaps._

He steps into the Viera’s personal space and grasps her hair at the base of her neck, tugging sharply until she turns her face up to look at him. He’s not holding on too tightly, despite the way Nidhogg howls within him to pull and bite and mark and - and she smirks up at him, resting her hands against his chestplate, leaning into him. “Stop. _Teasing._ Me.” Estinien growls, smashing his lips against hers, pinning her to the wall with his body as he nips and licks into her mouth, a man starved, desperate for her taste. His free hand grips her outer thigh and lifts it enough to wrap around his waist before grinding against her. He swallows her groan and feels her shift her hips to get closer to him.

Reika kisses him back fiercely, nipping and biting just as much as he does, before slowly pulling back, chuckling breathlessly as a strand of saliva hangs between their mouths before it snaps, a droplet plummeting onto Estinien’s chestplate. “The mighty Azure Dragoon trembling from my touch…” the Viera purrs, reaching up to trail her fingers along the line of his jaw, drawing another growl from him at the delicate touch. “I feel… powerful.”

“Oh, I’ll show you _trembling,_ ” Estinien snarls, leaning in and tearing the shoulder of her shirt down so he can sink his teeth into her skin, out of sight, so as not to scandalize Aymeric’s precious guests. He closes his eyes at the choked gasp falling from her lips “You won’t be able to walk for days after I’ve finished with you,” he breathes against her skin, smirking against the indentations left by his fangs even as Reika shivers beneath his lips. “Won’t be able to so much as lift an arm. A finger. I’ll _fuck_ the attitude right out of you,” he vows, straightening back up to meet his lover’s defiant gaze, her eyes a little glassier now, as Estinien reaches up and adjusts her sleeve, hiding the rapidly reddening mark on her shoulder, feeling Nidhogg rumble his pleasure at the knowledge that the mark will be purple by nightfall. He lowers her leg back to the ground and idly traces his claw along her skin.

“You promise?” Reika breathes, slipping under Estinien’s arm and starting back down the hallway, smirking back at the dragoon over her shoulder. “I have a lot of attitude.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why [they](https://discord.gg/aB66jau) keep enabling me :)


End file.
